


(When, My, Time Comes Around) Lay Me Gently in the Cold Dark Earth

by Viwiel



Series: Christmas All Around [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), The Mentalist
Genre: Buffy as Mrs Jane, Crossover, Gen, Prompt Fic, canon compliant death of a character, people interacting after a death of a loved one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viwiel/pseuds/Viwiel
Summary: Buffy Summers may be gone, but the people who loved her and who she loved are still around.
Relationships: Buffy Summers & Dawn Summers, Buffy Summers & Faith Lehane, Buffy Summers/Patrick Jane, Patrick Jane & Faith Lehane
Series: Christmas All Around [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704685
Kudos: 10





	1. One Final Look

**Author's Note:**

> Response to the following prompt from Khiela Cadona:
> 
> Fandoms: BtVS / Mentalist  
> Include: 'He’d thought he’d never see her again. They both blamed him for what had happened. But there she was, his sister-in-law, staring at him from the doorway.'
> 
> No dialogue, nada. Doesn’t mean anyone can’t start to speak, or make any noises, just no words can come out. Things like ‘she told him to get out’ won’t count as long as it’s not worded like ‘“Get out!” she’d shouted at him’.
> 
> Bonus: Listen Everything by Lifehouse but do not pay attention to the lyrics. Just the sound of the singer’s voice.
> 
> Title comes from Hozier's Work Song.

He hadn't intended to come here. Somehow his feet had just directed him here, to the place where she had lived before, back when they had met and were just dating. They had moved after they had gotten married. He stood there on the sidewalk, frozen in a spot, staring at the small house with white picket-fence surrounding it. It looked so bland whereas the woman who had lived there had been anything but.

He was jolted out of his thoughts when a child ran past him, bumping to his side on her way to the door of the house he had been staring at so intently he had forgotten all about the things around him.

He stood rooted in his position, watching as the blond-haired girl rang the doorbell a little too hard and a few times too many in the exuberant way of young children.He couldn’t help but compare her to the blond-haired girl of his memories. The girl of his memories would have been older now and her hair would be a shade lighter. And under no threat would anyone have been able to convince her to wear clothes with as much pink as the girl at the door. No, her dress would have been a particular shade of green – same shade as her mother’s eyes, there had been a phase.

It wasn't long till the door was opened. The sight of the lean brunette woman opening it floored him even worse than unthinkingly ending in the middle of old memories. He had never thought he’d see her again. The thought she might be living in her sister's old house had never even passed his mind.

But there she was, his sister-in-law, staring at him from the doorway with one hand on second girl's head. The girl had brunette curls, much like his sister-in-law did. He guessed she was his niece, the one he hadn’t got chance to meet after those few times when she had been just a baby. They hadn’t been that close before everything – she hadn’t approved her sister’s decision to marry him and after she and his wife had had a big argument about it there had been a chasm between them and her. He hadn’t had any contact with her since the day they had met to arrange the funeral. Both of them blamed him for what had happened and it was easier for both not to be in touch.

He could tell the moment she spotted him. Her mouth opened as if to say something, and closed again.

The children stole her attention from him before either one of them could decide whether to make contact or run away from the situation. He could hear her tell them to go play in the backyard. The girls ran inside leaving the two them standing there, unsure what to do.

He could still remember crystal clear the ill-fated day his wife, her sister, had died– no, had been murdered, because of him. The day he had lost his daughter and she her niece. There was no going back from something like that.

Thinking back to the day they had lost them; he couldn’t rid his mind of the echoes of her angry screams and bitter tears that went together with the memories of that day. Neither could he forget her denial in the beginning when they told her the news, nor the broken look in the end, when it had finally sunk in that her sister and niece were really gone.

The constant thing through it all had been the accusations she directed at him. They were when sobbed, when screeched at him, always accompanied with the accurate missiles, as she threw anything and everything she could get her hands on – all aimed at him. There had been broken photo frames, shards of smashed porcelain, and various other ruined things, littered around the house by the end of it all.

The blame she placed on him wasn't misdirected, not even in the slightest way, but it hadn’t changed a thing, didn’t change a thing. If only– No, he had gone down that road often enough to know it didn't end well. He knew there was an endless supply of _if only_ s and none of them would change anything; none of them would bring them back.

He made the effort to concentrate on the present moment. They must have looked like a stilled picture to anyone who saw them staring at each other out there, both of them trying to come up with the least hurtful course of action for themselves and the other.

The moment was broken by a sound of shattering glass inside of the house. He could see she was torn and made the choice for her, turning on his heels and starting to the way he had come from. They were better off without him interfering with their life and muddling it around. Perhaps they'd succeed to have the happiness he had been granted for only such a brief moment, the happiness that his wife had so dearly wished for her sister even when they were fighting.

He only turned to look back after he had heard the sound of the door closing. He stored away the picture of the little, cheerfully yellow house in his memory. With one final look he walked away, the fallen leaves blowing around him in the temperamental autumn winds.


	2. Memories in a Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It may have been just an ordinary box but it was definitely mocking her from where it sat on her kitchen table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Response to the following prompt:   
> Fandoms: -blank- & Mentalist; S/he got the package in the mail and while it looked innocent enough s/he was suspicious of it.  
> Include: ‘smirk’, ‘chocolate’ and ‘toothache’.
> 
> Turns out it's surprisingly hard not to mention any names… I hope it’s not too confusing.

She pursed her lips as she stared at the plain brown package on her otherwise empty kitchen table. If someone had been looking on, they would have identified the way her arms were crossed across her chest as a plainly defensive gesture.

She had gotten the package in the mail and while it looked innocent enough, she was vastly suspicious of it. It was only natural; she had seen the name of the sender.

She wasn’t afraid of him, or that the package would contain something harmful, no. She was afraid of the memories the mere unopened package stirred. She was also confused why he chose to contact her after all these years. She had been under the impression that the unvoiced decision she had made not to be in contact with him went in both ways, and until today her assumption had been right.

She remembered the times she had spent time with her sister and him; the one she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with, till death do them apart and all that jazz. They had always been so sweet it had damn nearly given her toothache just looking at the two of them interacting.

She, herself, had always gotten along with him, they hadn’t had any quarrel with each other. Having seen how happy he had made her sister, she had supported her in the decisions she made, considerably more than the brat had, that’s for sure. She agreed he was a little arrogant and reckless, that was a fair assessment, but who were she to cast any stones?

The death of her sister and the kid had hit them all hard; it had been unexpected – murder mostly was. Out of all things, that had not been how any of them figured her sister would finally leave this plane. She had been there for the aftermath, watched from the sidelines as they blamed him for her death, repeating how she would be alive if it wasn’t for him. They seemed to think everything would have been just hunky dory if she had never crossed paths with him. The way she saw it, it was just the opposite. She wouldn’t have lived as long as she did, if it hadn’t been for him and the kiddo. Those two had meant the world to her.

She made her decision on the fate of the package mocking her with its existence – if nothing else, she owed it to her sister’s memory to open that cursed package. Besides, what kind of Slayer would she be if she let an inanimate object defeat her?

She sat down and drew the package closer. She picked the knife from her boot to cut through the tape holding it closed and carefully unfolded the top open. There was a plain brown book and a piece of plain paper on it.

When she unfolded the paper, she found a short hand-written message from him.

_‘I was going through some of her possessions and found a box with photographs. I thought you would want copies._

_Merry Christmas.  
–P ‘_

_S_ he lifted the heavy photo album that she had earlier mistaken for a book out of the box and pushed the box away to lay it in front of her. With some hesitation she opened it.

Her hand rose involuntarily to cover her mouth and she bit her lip to keep the tear at bay when old memories and feelings coursed through her. The whole album was full of photos of her sister’s life, some that she had seen before and some that she hadn’t.

She was fast to leaf through the first pages that had photos of her life before her husband, ones that she was mostly familiar with. She wanted to get to the photos of the part of her sister’s life during when she knew she had been the happiest.

There was one of her and her sister and goddaughter baking chocolate chip cookies, it had been a right mess with all three of them there and only one of them having any idea what they were supposed to do. After having her daughter, her sister had gone to some classes and gotten better with cooking and baking, something she was sure he had appreciated.

She smiled softly when she saw one from her sister's last birthday. They had spent it on the beach behind their house, just the four of them. She caressed the photo of her sister. It was a close-up and she was laughing with her hair blowing in the wind as she watched her husband and daughter mess around in the waves. Tears glistened in her eyes as she recalled how happy they all had been and all the plans they had made.

There was a photo of her sister with her birthday cake. Amusement replaced the bittersweetness and a smirk rose on her face at the memory of her sister's terrified expression when she had seen the mess her husband and daughter had made in the kitchen baking that cake.

In the end, she spends hours going through the photographs, remembering stories behind them, going back and forth between pages several times.

When she was finally done with it, she put the album on her shelf in a pride of place with a gentle smile adorning her lips. It hadn't been nearly as painful as she had feared, reminiscing the old days.


End file.
